Fair Trade
by AllieSaysRoar
Summary: A mutual discontent with themselves causes Boq and Fiyero to strike up a bargain with one another. Friendships will bloom, romances will be acknowledged, and, of course, chaos will ensue.
1. Chapter 1

As the sun crawled slowly across the sky, just beginning to make it's descent from it's daily zenith, ever so slowly, rays of light withdrew themselves from the large, elegant windows of Shiz University's eastern library. Even in midday, the positioning of the glass paneling made the vast room seem dim, throwing shadows upon the walls and making the overall appearance eerie and unwelcoming. Even at its most attractive hour, the library was barren of life, except of course, for ever-studious Boq. Like most other days, he was sat with his nose buried in some massive text, glancing away occasionally to write a footnote or two. Aside from the crinkling sound of a page turning every now and then, the room was overtaken by reticence. To most of the men on campus, this sort of setting would have been overwhelmingly dull –not to mention creepy- but to little Boq it was a place of serenity. A means of escape from love-struck Nessarose, sarcastic Elphaba, and jeering Avaric. And especially that condescending, Galinda-stealing, half-wit of a prince-

"Boq!"

The sudden noise, casual as it was, pierced through the silence like a dagger and sent the Munchkin twice his own height into the air.

"Whoa! Easy!" Fiyero snickered, lingering by the entrance. Boq, failing to keep his balance, became very well acquainted with the elaborately patterned rug as the chair toppled over beside him. Narrowing his eyes, he shot the intruder a malicious glance and recollected himself.

"What in the name of Oz are you doing here?" he snapped, climbing to his feet and returning the chair to its useful position.

"I was about to ask you the very same thing," Fiyero replied with his usual nonchalance. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked over the room. "This isn't exactly a hotspot, eh?"

"It's a good place to study," Boq said plainly, returning to the text.

"It's a good place to hold a séance," Fiyero commented, making his way over. Boq sighed irritably.

"I'm sorry, but is there something I can help you with?" he queried exasperatedly. "Because, if not, I'd like to very much get back to-"

"Actually there is something," Fiyero cut him short. "I wondering if you've seen Fae anywhere? I heard that she's usually in this dungeon of a library and was hoping-"

"Fae?"

Fiyero blinked at him. "Yeah. I was hoping that-"

"Who's Fae?"

"She's-" Fiyero's brow crawled up his forehead in recognition of his blunder. "I mean… Elphaba."

"Where did 'Fae' come from?" Boq asked, not bothering to suppress a mocking chuckle.

"It's just a nickname," he brushed the question off quickly, becoming slightly flustered. Boq, his curiosity piqued, shifted his unadulterated attention to the prince. _Is Fiyero blushing?_ Of course, in the poor lighting, it was difficult to tell. The magnificent blue diamonds that lined his chiseled jaw-line might as well have been dancing around his face and Boq wouldn't have had the slightest clue. No, maybe he should excavate a little more in regards of this whole nickname business…

"Fae," he echoed. "That's a bit … nonconventional."

"She's a nonconventional girl," Fiyero mumbled, obviously yearning for the topic to be left alone.

"Well, yes," he ventured further. "But why 'Fae'? It just doesn't seem to suit her…"

"I'm sorry; I suppose we all can't earn ourselves appropriate labels like yourself, _Biq,"_ Fiyero shot, involuntarily. Needless to say, the Munchkin dropped the undesirable topic. In fact, he seemed to void himself of all forms of emotion along with it. After a tense pause, he finally spoke.

"What is it you needed, again?" he said monotonously. Fiyero immediately felt guilt grip at his heart.

"Boq, I didn't mean-"

"Just forget it," the small boy hissed. "Now, please; just tell me what you want. The sooner I can quell you, the sooner you can leave me alone."

Fiyero took no offense; he had that coming, after all. However, he couldn't help but feel a need to be on good terms with Boq. Why? He had no idea. Perhaps it was his conscience pestering him for the little scrape he got into on the first day; making a mockery of the kind-hearted boy and whisking away the girl he was chasing without much real effort. In fact, a girl that he was still chasing, as well as a girl whom Fiyero was beginning to doubt his chemistry with. Or perhaps it was that same unnamable compellation that made him suddenly wish to crack open his neglected textbooks. The feeling he got whenever Elphaba made a snarky comment about him lacking in wits. Could it be narcissism? The fact that he didn't like to be undermined when he knew he had the potential to prove these criticisms wrong? Or was it something else? Did he really feel a sentimental pull towards these two mavericks? Why did he have the overwhelming urge to make the Munchkin boy see him as a friend? And why in Oz did he always feel tongue-tied and belligerent around the lanky emerald girl? Why did he always feel the need to prove something to them?

Fiyero shook the thought of Elphaba from his head. Instead, he considered the boy in front of him. The boy who spent his free-time in dark libraries rather than in cafés; the boy who was bold enough to proclaim his infatuation for another man's girlfriend in front of his opposition but was far too shy to talk to the girl herself; the boy who wouldn't make a single deriding comment if you wanted to bring up the topic of women without the intentions of talking about sex.

The boy who was in love with his girlfriend.

Boq blinked his pale blue eyes at him. _It probably wouldn't be that hard for him to win Galinda over, now that I think about it,_ Fiyero mentally noted. Boq was attractive enough. His eastern origins were blatant in his face- the button nose, large, bright eyes, and sufficient lacking of a masculine jaw line- as well as in his miniscule stature. He was extremely lean, not to mention short- he only came up to Fiyero's chest, and that was only if he straightened his back and squared his shoulders. These features weren't exactly a bad thing, however. Galinda probably just didn't see his appeal because she compared him physically to Fiyero. It couldn't be done; it was apples and oranges. Fiyero had a more masculine, suave air to him- dark skin, broad shoulders, western features all the way. He was attractive in the risqué sense of the word. Boq, on the other hand, was attractive in the cute, approachable sense. It wasn't that he was worse looking; he just had a different appeal. _Like with Galinda and Elphaba_, Fiyero realized. Galinda had a stout body with highly emphasized curves, as well as beautiful long blonde hair and those sparkling cerulean eyes that seemed to make Boq never want to shut up. Elphaba, however, had that slender figure with humble curves and long, sleek back hair that she tied tightly back into a braid, but always seemed to have small strands escape and fall carelessly into her face anyway. Fiyero's mind resisted digressing. _And those sharp facial features, high cheekbones and a piercing look in her deep brown eyes that could make a man's heart leap with intimidation and yearning_. Any little movement she made- a shift of weight on her hips, a cocking of her eyebrow, a pursing of her lips whenever she was considering something you presented her with- it could all very well hypnotize Fiyero and render him completely defenseless. Yes, Galinda was cute, but Elphaba was mysterious. And utterly bewitching…

Fiyero mentally scolded himself. _Stop that! Stay focused. _

"Well?" Boq demanded.

"I wanted to ask you something," Fiyero replied, still pulling himself out of the daze he had worked himself into. "If you wanted to accept a… proposition."

"Excuse me?" Boq raised his pair of dark eyebrows.

Fiyero smiled at the idea that had unconsciously hatched during his reverie. "You heard me. I have a proposition for you. Listen, we both have something the other wants. You have wits. A work ethic. High marks. While, I have-"

"Galinda," Boq interjected. Fiyero cocked an eyebrow letting a bemused smirk pull at the corner of his lips. Boq obviously hadn't intended to voice that; this much was evident by his face becoming a glowing shade of crimson.

"Exactly," Fiyero replied calmly.

"W-what?" Boq stuttered.

"Boq," Fiyero tried to flash him a winning smile. "If you can tutor me, I'll help you win over Galinda."

Boq stared at him, only beginning to return the smile when his face fell into a scowl. "I… don't believe you."

"Why not?" Fiyero asked, playfully shoving him. "C'mon, Boq. You give me a brain; I'll give you her heart. Deal?"

"As much as I'd like to believe that's possible-"

"I resent that," Fiyero smirked.

"What? No, not you getting your grades up," Boq rolled his eyes. He sighed. "Galinda has made it perfectly clear that she wants-" He paused and took a breath, as if to steady his tone. "-absolutely nothing to do with me."

Fiyero opened his mouth to argue, but Boq continued.

"And the fact that you want to just _hand over_ a girl like her is practically impossible to fathom," he said. "You may claim that you're brainless, but nobody is brainless enough to want to give something with her up."

"It's not a brainless move," Fiyero countered. "I'm considering her best interests, as well as my own. Boq, we aren't… meant for each other."

"That's not what she thinks," Boq muttered.

"Well, she's wrong, then," Fiyero said sternly.

"Fiyero, I appreciate you trying to offer me closure, but-"

"She deserves someone like you!" Fiyero interrupted.  
Boq's demeanor grew intense as he fixed his eyes on the Vinkus boy. Fiyero looked him in the eye.

"I'm not trying to pull anything, nor am I trying to give you any form of closure. Believe me when I say that I think Galinda would be better off with you," Fiyero said. Boq held eye contact, searching the prince's face for any traces of a lie.

"I believe you," he said finally, lowering his voice.

"Good," Fiyero smiled. This broke through Boq's serious expression, and he let himself return a small grin.

"I have one question, though," he queried, his voice losing its stern edge.

"Shoot."

"Why do you want a tutor? What ever happened to easy-going, life-dancing Fiyero Tiggular?"

Fiyero considered his answer.

_I'm tired of you calling me an idiot, Boq. I'm tired of Elphaba's sarcastic comments about my intellect. I'm tired of her blowing me off to have a serious conversation with you._

"It'll make for a nice change of regime," Fiyero replied. "Plus, how am I ever going to help you if I get booted out of Shiz?"

Boq answered him with a cheese grin. "Well, in that case, we'd better get started. You have an awfully long way to go."

Fiyero smirked. "I was about to say the same to you."


	2. Chapter 2

Fiyero Tiggular was very well accustomed to over-sleeping. Back in the Vinkus, it was well known that the best game for hunting was nocturnal; they would slink through the Thousand Year Grasslands under the reassuring cover of darkness accompanying the endless stretch of chest-high, sun-bleached grass. As a boy, the young Winkie would don skin-tight hunting garbs (to keep the blood-sucking night crawlers away) that were shades of deep, brooding browns with the occasionally slender line of beige hemmed into the suede material. He would lurk within the confines of the grass- his ears perking up at the sound of a twig breaking or any unnatural rustling of the grass. Reaffirming his grip on his spear, he would mock the call of one of the many crows that would nest in the area- a noise that would alert his fellow tribe members, yet not scare away his prey. A distant caw would echo back. _Go for it. _Lunging forward, the young prince would immediately grab hold of the unsuspecting animal and drive his weapon into the vulnerable meat of its neck before the shock could set in and it could resist. It would die painlessly and quietly in a matter of seconds. Fatigued, Fiyero would be panting heavily by the time his father would prowl over, followed by a cohort of Arjiki hunters and their eldest sons, who were always muttering in envy of the boy-prince's success. They would return with their prizes to the great edifice of Kiamo Ko in the early hours of the morning, having disbanded from the rest of the tribe along the way. There, Fiyero would sleep until late afternoon, resting up for another night of hunting.

It was a sleep schedule that he carried with him to college; skip the morning classes, wake up at noontide and leisurely spend his day around campus- attending a choice lecture or two at the whim of his girlfriend or by the indirect influence that Elphaba offered- and then collapse onto his bed late into the night (or early into the morning, depending on the perspective you wish to take).

It was this very habit that he had formed that caused him to be completely delusional when his roommate flung a pillow into his face, requesting him to rise at quarter to six in the morning.

Fiyero's eyes reluctantly slid open to the image of Boq hovering over him.

"At long last! He's up!" the Munchkin-boy declared, a little too cheerily for Fiyero's taste.

"Wh-what's going on?" Fiyero stumbled through the question, groggily pulling himself up to a sitting position and yawning.

"It's time to get up. Get ready," Boq grinned. Fiyero's head lolled on his muscular shoulders as he turned to look out the window that was positioned between the two beds in the dormitory.

"It's dark outside," Fiyero commented absent-mindedly, as if his chipper roommate hadn't already considered this. Boq's grin widened, amused.

"Of course it is," he replied, genuinely enjoying the westerner's bewilderment. "Dawn's not for another half an hour, at least." Fiyero blinked.

"What kind of cruel, cruel joke is this, Boq?" the prince said, his voice absent of any form of emotion. Boq laughed, obviously mistaking Fiyero's uncharacteristic annoyance as a façade. The sound caused Fiyero to wince noticeably. _Oz, does he really have to be this much of a morning person?_

"Really, now," Boq composed himself, still retaining a beaming smile. "You have to get ready." Defiantly, Fiyero slumped back into his pillow and pulled the sheets over his head. "Hey!" Boq tone acquired the slightest touch of irritation and Fiyero felt a sense of satisfaction. He was allowed a few moments of silence in which to doze before Boq's voice pestered back into consciousness. "Fine. Go back to sleep. I shouldn't have expected you to keep your word."

It took a few moments to Fiyero's mind to register this. _Oh, Oz, right! The bargain._He groaned inwardly.

"At ease, you little pest," Fiyero mumbled, pulling the down-comforter from over his head, greeting the chilly morning air once more. "I'm getting up." In the retreating grey moonlight, Fiyero made out a pleased smirk on the Munchkinlander's face. Slipping out of the warm comfort of the sheets, Fiyero took note of his roommate's attire. He was already fully dressed in his school uniform- a navy blue suit with vertical stripes over a lime green collared shirt of the same design accompanied by a neatly adjusted striped tie. His trademark red cap tied the whole outfit together. Fiyero figured that Boq's over-scholarly attire was as good of a place as any to start with the cross-improvement deal.

"In regards to holding up my end of the bargain, mind if I offer some constructive criticism?" Fiyero queried, yawning in the midst of it.

"Of course," Boq replied, fixing his eyes on him intently; ready to eat up any little thing Fiyero were to say to him. The prince looked him straight in the eye.

"Never wear that again." And with that, Fiyero got up and brushed passed him, making a beeline for his closet.

"I beg your pardon?" Boq replied, a little taken aback by the blunt remark. Fiyero fumbled through some drawers, withdrawing several shirts that may just pass for adequate when worn by his much stouter roommate.

"You said you'd do anything for Galinda, right?" Fiyero asked, not turning to face him. He didn't wait for Boq to retaliate with a sappy response. "That promise requires you to appeal to her fashion-savvy personality." He picked up a plain, white button-up shirt and carried out a perusal of it.

"That's a bit shallow," Boq remarked, bitterly. Fiyero decided that the top would do quite nicely. He fished a navy blue tie out of another cluttered draw, deciding to allow Boq some type of the formal dress he was accustomed to.

"I'm sorry, do you not want my help?" Fiyero asked casually, as he turned to face him.

"No, I do!" Boq reassured him, but his face obviated he was hurt. "I just thought that…"

He trailed off, not entirely sure how to voice his thoughts. Fiyero knew exactly what he intended to say, however. He sighed; a gesture stemming from both empathy and impatience (due to the early-morning bitterness he had yet to fully shake off).

"Boq," he began, also having some trouble wording his thoughts without causing further offense. "It's just to get her attention. A sharp change will be sure to catch her eye." Boq nodded wearily, reluctantly agreeing.

"After that," Fiyero continued, smirking. "You can go back to wearing whatever the hell you want. Now, here." He tossed the two articles of clothing in the Munchkin's direction. Boq's arms shot out stiffly and he clumsily caught them, but just barely. _A complete lack of grace, _Fiyero shook his head. _That'll be our next fault to touch upon. _

"Oh, and another thing," Fiyero called after him as he scampered into the bathroom to change. "Lose the hat and the suit jacket. The less the bulk the better." Boq gave him a swift, over-the-shoulder nod and disappeared behind the lavatory door. With that, Fiyero began to dress himself. An asymmetrical, vertical-striped vest over a white t-shirt, and straight blue pants. Plain and simple. He wouldn't want to outshine Boq, of course. Besides, maybe this ever-so-slight step away from his vanity will assist him in focusing on school. And perhaps, Elphaba would take note of it and see that he isn't as shallow as he's constantly being portrayed as. _  
_

His mind wandered over to the lustrous topic of Elphaba Thropp once more. Would she notice his sudden presence in the class, or would she be too enthralled in the confines of some book to care? She's bound to be with Galinda. And Galinda is bound to hound him out. So there is the indefinite chance that the emerald girl will catch of glimpse of Fiyero 2.0 in the making. Or will she?

Whenever Galinda totes her by the crook of her arm over to Fiyero, her eyes duck away; embarrassed by her outgoing bosom buddy making her existence more blatant than it needs to be. She doesn't say much other than a mumbled greeting, and then will get herself lost in some train of thought, focusing her attention on some far off, invisible object on the horizon. Or the floor. It's only in the absence of the blonde that Elphaba genuinely tries to make a conversation with him, and, even then, her tone is tense and she is taut. She's on edge; as if she were doing something heinous and was in alert for anyone that could potentially catch her in the act.

Perplexing, perplexing Elphaba Thropp.

Ever since that day with the lion cub, she's acted so distant and uncomfortable around him. She's acted so… so out-of-character.

But then again, hasn't he as well?

"Fiyero?" A hushed voice interrupted his thoughts. The prince glanced over at the bathroom door, which was now standing slightly ajar and he took that as the sign to enter and get criticized. He strolled over, bracing himself to be bombarded with complaints from his roommate. Hesitantly slipping into the room, he found, to his surprise, Boq staring at his reflection, awe-stricken. He was slowly tilting his head this way and that, comparing the different angles of this simple, yet powerful transformation. The naïve air that he carried in his other form of dress had thoroughly disappeared; confidence flooding in and taking its place.

A smile tugged at the edge of Fiyero's lips as he stepped behind Boq and made the bold move of placing both hands on his shoulders and staring into the mirror with him.

"Not a complete travesty," he grinned, squeezing the Munchkin's squared frame playfully.

Boq pulled his cheese grin- which also lost its childish aura- and raised his gaze to meet Fiyero's. He remained silent, but his blue eyes shone brightly with gratitude. They marveled at the change for another moment, before Fiyero finally let his hands slip away.

"Alright, Mr. Suave; it's payment in kind time," Fiyero said. "You do realize I haven't seen half of my textbooks since I've gotten here, right?"

Boq was still enthralled with his own reflection far too much to register what the prince was saying.

"Meaning," Fiyero continued, tousling his hair to grab his attention. "I'm going to need help finding them." Boq recoiled under his touch.

"Hey!" he jerked away, his hands instinctively going to his thick black hair to smooth it out. Doing so, his mind finally absorbed the favor that was being asked of him. "Oh, um, right. Sure."

Fiyero snickered and exited to begin the hunt for his school supplies. Boq caught one last glimpse of himself in the mirror, gaining a fleeting moment of self-admiration before trailing after the prince.

Admittedly, he had his doubts about how much this bargain would work in his favor, but now, who knows? _Maybe Galinda really will notice the drastic change._

Exiting the bathroom, he caught sight of his roommate combat crawling across the floor and peering under the twin beds in search for the books. Boq did all he could to suppressed a laugh.

_Maybe Fiyero isn't such a bad guy after all._

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the slow start. I promise it'll pick up the pace as it progresses. ^^ **


	3. Chapter 3

It took about half an hour to unearth all of Fiyero's neglected textbooks; Boq found two under the bed, while Fiyero was able to dig one up from under a pile of dirty laundry that had been accumulating in the far corner of the room, and yet another tightly wedged in the opening of a window. As luck would have it, his schedule- sloppily folded and unevenly creased- was tucked within the first page of his history textbook.

"I didn't even know I took liberal arts," Fiyero muttered, cocking an eyebrow at the unkempt sheet of paper. Boq rolled his eyes.

"Never mind that. Look," he said, pointing at the top of the page. "You and I have the same class right now." Boq furrowed his brow. "Come to think of it, I do recall seeing you there… once." Fiyero chuckled.

"Well, at least I took a swing at it before deciding I didn't like it," he replied, absorbing the rest of his schedule.

"It's a basic physics class," Boq commented. "It's not all that hard. What didn't you like about it?"

"The fact that it started at seven in the morning," Fiyero remarked without missing a beat. "What time is it now, anyway?" Boq's eyes drifted over to the miniature clock perched on the desk. In the face was a beige silhouette of the Time Dragon thrown against a pale, white background. The night-black hands grazed over the similarly shaded digits of "6" and "11". Six fifty-five.

"Time to go," Boq replied before swiping his own books from off of his desk and hastily running out the door. Fiyero casually strode after him.

* * *

They were only about two minutes late; they made their way into the room inconspicuously with a cohort of stragglers who were trudging in with all the eagerness and life of a mortician. Galinda apparently had the class as well; Fiyero could immediately tell it was her by the bouncing, golden curls and the familiar faces of her god-awful friends surrounding her. And by the way Boq's head immediately snapped in that direction when they walked through the doors. He bit his bottom lip, an expression of longing spreading over his face.

"Okay," Fiyero addressed him, raising his voice slightly to snap him out of his lovesick-schoolboy state. Boq jumped. "You go sit wherever you usually do. I'm going to get a little closer to the professor. We'll meet up again… what was it? Two classes from now?" Boq nodded. In a few hours they had history together with Dr. Nikidik. _And Galinda_, Boq thought. He had yet to figure out whether having both Fiyero and Galinda in the same class was a good thing- for the reasons that Fiyero could help him out at close range- or a very, very bad thing- with Fiyero in the vicinity, Galinda wouldn't even acknowledge his existence. He sighed. _I guess I'll just have to wait and see how this plays out, _he decided.

Boq strode over to his seat, which was, much to Fiyero's surprise, nowhere near Galinda. They were separated by at least three rows of people horizontally as well as the aisle that divided the seating in two. Boq was slumped over in his seat; all the confidence that had built up in him just an hour ago had vanished without a trace in the presence of Fiyero's girlfriend. _Poor sap, _the Winkie shook his head, empathetically. He glanced at his girlfriend sitting on the other side of the room. _She just needs a little push in his direction, _Fiyero smirked, his mind beginning to formulate a plan. He took a seat two rows behind her, diagonal from one of her friends. That could've been considered fairly risky, considering the last thing he wanted to do was get found out by Galinda. (If that were the case, she'd never let him pay attention. Plus, it's be a huge set-back for his efforts for Boq.) However, no one was expecting to see him here, so it was a pretty safe guess that they wouldn't register him sitting just out of their line of vision.

As the class began, Fiyero acted on the idea that sprung into his mind. Tearing out a spiral sheet of notebook paper, he jotted down a simple, one-line note and folded into a square.

"Excuse me," he whispered hoarsely, placing it on Galinda's friend's desk. "Do you mind passing this to Boq for me?" She didn't even glance his way.

"Whatever," she muttered, turning to pass it on. Catching a glimpse of the Munchkin two rows away, she faltered.

_And now just sit back and watch the domino effect, _Fiyero smirked and leaned back in his chair. The girl- Pfanee was her name?- quickly passed the note down and swiveled around in her chair, excitedly tapping the girl in front of her on the shoulder. If Fiyero recalled correctly, that was Milla.

"Shen Shen!" Pfanee called under her breath. _Ah, well. I was never good at guessing games, _Fiyero shrugged. Shen Shen turned around, a meticulously plucked eyebrow raised in questioning. Pfanee flashed her a suggestive smile and gestured in Boq's direction.

"What in the name of Oz?" Shen Shen's painted red lips parted in surprise. "Is that… _Biq_?"

"Boq, actually," Pfanee corrected, as-a-matter-of-factly, as if she hadn't just learned his name just a moment ago, herself. Shen Shen flashed her a bewildered look, before jerking forward and practically slapping Galinda over the head.

_Watch the last domino teeter. _

Galinda turned around and shot her friend a repressed scowl."Oh, don't you give me that," Shen Shen giggled. Her voice acquired a teasing tone. "Look. I think someone's trying to impress you."

Galinda's head turned, and, just as the other two girls had done, her eyebrows shot up her forehead and her mouth stood agape.

_And fall.  
_

* * *

Boq figured that Fiyero would be passed out as soon as the lecture started, therefore it was up to him to pay attention for the both of them. He had been scribbling down notes in his horrid, chicken-scratch handwriting when a small square of paper plopped down in the middle of his desk. For a moment, he assumed one of the guys behind him was just making a game out of throwing whatever was at hand at him- it wouldn't be the first time this had been the case- and he nearly swept the note to the floor before realizing it was different than the usual ammunition. Instead of being carelessly wadded, it was folded neatly- or, at least, someone had made an attempt to folded it neatly. One of the creases was on a slight slant, just as Fiyero's schedule had been. And that was the sign for Boq to unfold it.

_"Don't look now, Lover Boy. Galinda is staring right at you."_

Of course, Boq's head turned without pause. Sure enough, the blonde and all of her companions were eying him. A little chorus of giggles erupted from her cohort of friends upon his recognition. Galinda turned, shushing them, but smiling light-heartedly herself. Boq stared at them. _Were they mocking him? _

Galinda's gaze slid back over to him, her eyes narrowed. A small smile flickered over her full pink lips.

And she waved at him.

A little twitch of two of her fingers in his direction. It could just have easily been a sudden muscle spasm being as minute as it was, but Boq decided to accept it as otherwise. His heart skipped a beat. No, that was an understatement. His heart was fluttering within the confines of his chest. Using a ridiculous amount of self-control, he forced himself to retaliate with all the nonchalance Fiyero might've used. Grinning at her- but not too widely!-, he offered a little flick of the wrist back. She accepted this acknowledgement and faced her body forward once more, her gaze lingering on him for a second longer before following.

She had waved at him.

She had made eye contact.

She had acknowledged him.

Boq beamed. It wasn't requited love but it was a start.

* * *

Fiyero couldn't help but feel proud; that massive smile on the Munchkin's face was his doing, after all. He ripped out a second piece of notebook paper and jotted down another note.

_"Wow, Boq! A wave! Looks like you're really moving up in the world. Here's a tip, though; stop glancing over at her every five seconds. Playing hard-to-get will get you much farther much faster."_

He folded it, unable to avoid that uneven little slant in his crease, and passed it along through a different chain of people. He didn't want to push his luck in being surreptitious.

The note plopped on Boq's desk, who promptly read it, and reacted as quickly as he did to the last one, training his eyes forward. Of course, only a few seconds drifted by before his vacant, dreamy gaze was fixated on Galinda once more. Fiyero passed another note.

"_I'm not kidding. It's not going to bide well if she catches you with that lovesick, little grin plastered on your face. Stop."_

Boq didn't even bother to read this one; he just pushed it to the side of his desk and retained his smitten stare. Fiyero, genuinely annoyed now, scribbled down and passed along yet another warning note.

"_Listen, Lover Boy. I'm a clock-tick away from coming over there and holding your head in place myself."_

It wasn't long before a perfectly folded square plopped itself right smack in the middle of his desk. Not expecting a response, Fiyero curiously unfolded it and, after a couple seconds of deciphering, was able to make out a message in Boq's near-illegible script.

"_Shouldn't _you_ be paying attention to the professor?  
__-Lover Boy"_

Fiyero threw Boq a side-glance and saw that his roommate was smirking at him condescendingly. Fiyero couldn't help but return a grin. They held eye contact for a moment before Boq's bemused gaze slipped away towards the professor.

Eventually, Fiyero's did the same.


	4. Chapter 4

Shiz's eastern branch held the two largest rooms on campus- the Briscoe Hall Library and the Introduction to Literary Analysis lecture hall. The latter was the most widely taken Ozish course on campus- it appealed to the depths of students by allowing them to temporarily cast away the shackles of confined thinking and let their minds explore the vast, endless possibilities of literary meanings. The professor of the course was Artemis Young- an attractive, charismatic man in his early thirties that had students of all majors hanging onto his every word (not to mention many of the girls on campus hanging onto _him_). He was Gillikin-oriented; his wispy blonde hair that he always had tied back into a pony-tail and sparkling blue eyes made this much blatant. His liberated attitude, however, contrasted sharply with the etiquette-teachings one would usually see reflected in the Gillikinese people. With this combination of tolerable looks and an enthralling topic of interest, Fiyero concluded that is was by far his favorite class of the morning.

If only he could stay awake.

His eyes were stinging with fatigue and, more than once, his eyelids had dipped down low enough that he had actually fallen asleep for a moment or two. The coffee he had grabbed on his way to this building was having little to no effect- if anything, the warm beverage had made him even drowsier. How Boq could wake up in the wee hours of the morning and be quelling with energy was beyond him.

Artemis suddenly stopped the ecstatic rant he had been going on and slapped some massive text down onto his desk. Fiyero- as well as most of the other students- jumped. The prince receded slightly from his stupor and trained his eyes on the far-off lecturer (although he had arrived early, students and visitors already crowded the closer seats, forcing him to be at a far –range. Definitely not helping him in his struggle to stay awake and focused.)

"I assume that you're all familiar with the works of Ba'ami?" he queried, his eyes moving over the vast collection of students who were all muttering in agreement (save Fiyero, of course). A satisfied smile unraveled over his thin, pale lips as he turned back to the volume on his desk. He flipped open the elegant, leather-bound cover and began to mindlessly paw through the pages. "Excellent. The majority of you have decent taste in poetry." A group chuckle rose up and died down in a matter of seconds. "For those of you who don't know, however-"

His magnificent blue eyes flickered up and caught Fiyero in their gaze for a split second.

"-Ba'ami is a Quadling poet who gained renown during the period of rebellion in the south. His short, simple pieces that reflected the southern providence's view on the tensions between Quadling Country and the EC contributed most to his immortalization as a poet. For example:"

He paused abruptly in the midst of turning a page. Placing the page in hand gingerly back down, he slid his slender fingers over a faded collection of words, taking them in for himself before reciting them to the room.

"_Lingering on the lips of a leaf,  
A caterpillar shifts,  
Inching onto the adjacent branch.  
A gale wind blows,  
And the leaf is pulled into oblivion,  
While the caterpillar clutches onto safety."_

Artemis raised his eyes from the archaic, yellow paper to look at the class once more. Everyone was silent- taking in the poem, deciphering and analyzing the subtext.

"Thoughts anyone?" Artemis finally asked after a couple of seconds of reticence slid past. Several hands shot up without missing a beat. The blonde professor's eyes scanned the raised appendages before he gestured towards one at random. "Yes?"

"The caterpillar is a metaphor for the Quadling country, while the leaf, the Emerald City," a lanky, redheaded boy stated, as-a-matter-of-factly. "Ba'ami is implying that the southerners would not be as harmed as everyone suggested they would be if they seceded from the EC's control. In fact, he's trying to say that when hard times come upon Oz- the "gale wind" in this case- the southerners are more likely to survive it on their own, while the Capitol is… well, "blown away" by it."

"Precisely," Artemis responded, turning away from the boy. The redhead smiled smugly as he settled back down in his seat. "Would anyone else care to contribute to that?"

Another series of hands were lifted. Among them was the very distinct, diamond-speckled palm of Fiyero Tiggular.

"Master Fiyero," Artemis said, his tone verging on surprise. "I'm touched that you finally decided to grace us with your presence." A light bustle of laughter filled the room. Fiyero retaliated with a smirk. "Have you any thoughts on the poem or are you just going to inquire where the restrooms are?" Again, laughter chorused among the students, more boisterously this time.

"Actually," Fiyero replied, no offense or embarrassment blatant in his voice. "I do have a thought about the… symbols in this poem."

Artemis raised his brow. "I see. Do extrapolate then."

Fiyero was silent for a moment, mentally sorting out his answer. Drawing in a breath, he finally responded, his tone not digressing from nonchalance.

"The caterpillar is a caterpillar. The leaf is a leaf. The gale wind is a gale wind. And that's all there is to it."

Everyone fell uncomfortably silent. Even the white noise of murmur from some of the students in the back of the room had dissolved completely into reticence. Self-consciously, the prince glanced around the room, meeting lowbrow, pursed-lip stares from the surrounding students.

Artemis's expression remained placid.

"So," the professor said casually. "It is your belief that the author wrote this poem about larvae for the sole intention of writing about larvae. Is that correct, or am I mistaken?" He voice was absent of any condescending or mocking tones, yet Fiyero couldn't help but sense that the question was rigged with a snare.

"Well, yes," he replied cautiously.

A snide smile pulled at the edge of the professor's lips.

"Well, then, Master Fiyero; what a way to make your debut in class," he said, his tone beginning to ease itself into that of humor and, in turn, ease the tension of the room. "On your very first arrival you question the intentions of one of the most famous poets in Quadling history. Quite the daring one, aren't we?"

"Quite the opposite, actually," Fiyero responded, mimicking Artemis's tone. "Why search for something that isn't there? Why fabricate meanings and put words in the author's mouth that he didn't intend to voice? Why can't the caterpillar just be a caterpillar?"

Artemis chuckled, amused, as if he were just told some ridiculous fable by a child. "Because, Master Fiyero, although we can't be certain of Ba'ami's intended meanings, we can take close guesses. Judging by his style, his life, as well as the time period, the formerly suggested meanings are most likely what was intended. It is what most scholars- most readers in general, I should say- have come to agree upon."

"Because popular opinion has _always_ proven to be reliable, correct? Ozma forbid we digress from convention," Fiyero stated, almost vindictively. A hush fell over the students once more, but Fiyero stood his ground. He sat up straight and looked Artemis straight in the eye- abandoning his casual slouch and habit of glancing around, seeking his peers' approval. Artemis seemed determined to not break the silence, nor the mutual, icy gaze the two men shared. It was Fiyero who finally spoke again.

"Maybe this poem really does pertain to the war," Fiyero began. "Even if this is proven, the caterpillar may still hold the role of being nothing but a caterpillar. What if the hidden metaphor is not behind the elements of the poem but the poem itself?"

Artemis's gaze lost its frigid edge. His countenance distorted itself into one of pure curiosity; a cocked eyebrow sending the message for Fiyero to elaborate further.

"Think about it," Fiyero continued. "In the midst of rebellion, with war looming dangerously close on the horizon, this man- Ba'ami- can calmly sit down and watch an insignificant, meaningless insect crawl around on a tree without another thought permeating his brain. The most important thing on his mind at the time was this caterpillar- this mere caterpillar- just barely escaping a gust of wind; not the threats emitted by the Capitol. In a way, with this simple- and, I can't stress enough- meaningless piece of writing he's speaking on behalf of his people and telling the EC, 'you don't scare us.'"

Artemis remained silent, looking absolutely nonplussed. A sense of utter satisfaction compelled Fiyero to add on to his rant.

"Usually, the answer we're looking for is the one swimming right on the surface that we're too distracted by thought to see. Don't complicate things. Dance through life," he grinned.

"Master Fiyero," Artemis breathed. He appeared to remember his native tongue and regained the ability of speech once more. Becoming conscious of the stupor he had fallen into, he quickly withdrew from it. Recomposing himself, he narrowed his brow and allowed himself to smirk, returning to his usual suave, condescending demeanor. "Welcome to Introduction to Literary Analysis."

Fiyero blinked.

"Class dismissed."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Alrighty. Here is a reposting of Chapter 5; I took it down to revise the ridiculous amount of grammatical errors that I had over-looked before. Nothing new. Although Chapter 6 is well on its way. ^^**

* * *

It took a capacious amount of self-control to prevent Fiyero from pumping his fists in the air while exiting the edifice. The successful banter that had just preceded ousted any traces of weariness and bitterness out of his mind and he all but skipped down the stone steps. His lenient air took hold of him once more and he allowed himself the pleasure of casually sauntering to his next class rather than run-walking as he had done for every other class transition that day. Not that that was even necessary for this particular change of classes; the history building was fairly close to his previous class. In fact, it was just coming into view now; the quaint architecture of the pointed steeple that dully pierced the azure sky, the cream-colored shutters that were left ajar to allow the mid-autumn breeze into the stuffy rooms…

The rather large mob that was assembling before the front entrance.

Fiyero's body reacted faster than his thoughts and he immediately broke into a fast-paced trot, making a beeline for the crowd. He had no idea what he was expected to see when he got there, but with the plethora students, teachers and just random bystanders that had accumulated by the time he had reached them, it might as well have been a murder. Fiyero lingered on the outskirts of the large group that had encompassed the mystery object of interest, arcing his neck up and outward, attempting to make out what everyone was murmuring and bustling about. No luck; the mob was far too dense for whatever was in the center to be visible. Curiosity getting the best of him, Fiyero began to rudely elbow his way through the thicket of people until a shrill utterance rang out over the noise.

"Disperse! Disperse, students!" Madame Morrible had perched herself on the top step of the building's entrance and was wedged between two unfortunate students. She fluttered her hands dismissively and everyone thought better than to disobey her; no public scandal –or tragedy- was worth a reprimanding from the frightening headmistress. "Anyone here taking this course is exempt from it for the day!" She took another look whatever spectacle still lay beyond Fiyero's view and shook her head. "I mean… until further notice. And anyone here not enrolled in this course... well, for Oz's sake, find something better to do than torment this poor man!"

_Torment?_

Then Fiyero spotted him. In the midst of the dissembling crowd, Dr. Nikidik was hunched over on the bottom of the stoop, taking long, exaggerated draws from a cigarette. The meek man's face was unnaturally pale and his eyes were blankly fixated on the cobble stone floor. He mouth, in between the deep inhalations of smoke, moved quickly, uttering some nervous, unintelligible gibberish.

"What happened?" Fiyero found himself asking no one in particular, not taking his eyes off this wreck of a human being.

"Who can say?" a girl lingering within the vicinity responded. "When I came he was just… sitting here like this." She gestured at Dr. Nikidik as if he were incapable of hearing her. A malicious little smirk spread over her lips. "But hey, if it's getting us out of class, I say, 'who cares?'"

The girl sniggered just as a flash of emerald shot into Fiyero's peripheral vision. He immediately reacted, turning his head just in time to see a flitting, dark-blue skirt disappear into the slim gap between two buildings.

"Um, yeah… right," he mumbled absentmindedly to the girl as he broke in to a sprint for the alley. The mouth of the backstreet was only about twenty yards away, but he pumped his legs, gaining a ridiculous amount of speed, anyway. He wasn't about to let her slip from his view and evade him. Fiyero Tiggular was not one to let his prey escape. He ducked into the slim opening, his eyes darting around to catch a trace of the fleeing emerald girl, hoping she hadn't already dodged him.

No. Fiyero noted that the alley didn't diverge; it was one long stretch of a street, dimmed by the immense shadows that one building threw onto its companion. The prince squinted into the poor lighting, significantly slowing his pace to a meandering walk. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sharp change; blinking feverously, he was able to make out the lean figure pacing rapidly about ten feet away. His heart skipped a beat and he eagerly opened his mouth to draw out words, a greeting, anything! But, his lips found themselves blanking. Once again, he had acted without thinking. Once again, he had no idea what to say.

Once again, Elphaba had left him tongue-tied.

He stood their belligerently, stupidly awaiting to be noticed, but she didn't seem to register his presence in her panicked state. Rather, she continued to march back and forth, clutching the crooks of her arms in her emerald palms. Her breathing was sharp and erratic and Fiyero could see the rise and fall of her chest with each breath drawn. Cautiously, he took a step forward, his foot knocking against some haphazardly strewn piece of trash as he did so. The noise was hardly something worth acknowledging, as small and insignificant as it was, but Elphaba stop dead in her tracks, her head snapping up.

For a long while they both just stood there, unmoving. She in the shadows, her eyes wild with shock and terror and he, in the midst of a small ray of light filtering in from the opening, illuminating his sympathetic demeanor. Two separate worlds kept apart but such a minute amount of space, standing, regarding the other.

It was she who spoke first.

"What?" she spat, a notable quiver to her voice.

"I…" Fiyero began. He stared at her, unable to finish the sentence stemming from a thought that hadn't really been there in the first place. Instead, he asked the question that had already been waiting to pop out of his lips. "What were you running from?"

In that split second, her chocolate brown eyes had never encompassed such a look of vulnerability; all at once, they seemed to scream in anguish, plead for help, but, above all, look relieved. Relieved that they didn't have to maintain a barrier to true emotion. _Yes, I saw you; you don't have to pretend to be strong anymore. _

But just for a split second.

She straightened herself and narrowed her eyes, allowing her hands to tuck themselves into the crook of her elbows, rather than cradle them protectively. All traces of vulnerability dissipated as she took on her usual stern, indifferent countenance. But, despite the transformation, a tremble was still evident in her voice.

"Nothing," she said sharply.

"Oh, so you were just going for your usual midday jog, then?" Fiyero queried, trying to permeate her defenses. Elphaba raised and eyebrow and scowled; of course, the joke had fallen flat.

"Fae," Fiyero took another step forward, attempting a different approach. "I just want to help you."

Elphaba's brow furrowed as her gaze was downcast. Fiyero took another step.

"Please talk to me. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think," he paused and before adding confidently, "It wasn't your fault." He was positive of this, although he was still completely oblivious as to what "it" was.

"My fault…" she echoed, despondently.

"Elphaba," Fiyero felt his voice come out in a whisper, matching her own hushed tone.

"Of course it was my fault!" Elphaba's head suddenly jerked upward to face him. Somewhere behind her, a ceramic pot could be heard crashing into the side of one of the brick edifices.

As the shards fell to the floor and exploded into smaller cantles upon impact, her face fell. But her eyes were fixated on Fiyero, her face taking on a demeanor of helplessness once more. "Oh, Oz…"

What happened next was a bit of a shock for both of them. In one quick movement, Fiyero had slinked his muscular arms around her quaking form. Her body instinctively jerked under the touch, but he refused to let go. Slowly, her shock receded and she fell into the comforting gesture.

"Of course it was my fault," she whispered again.

"What happened?" Fiyero said softly. Elphaba shifted under his arms, drawing her slender hands up to attempt to return the foreign embrace. As the tips of her fingers grazed his bare arm, a small rush jolted through both of them and Elphaba quickly withdrew the touch and took to leaning into his shirt instead. She sighed.

"I was trying to confront Dr. Nikidik before the class started," she began. "There were files left behind by Dr. Dillamond- all of the research he had been conducting had been stored for safe-keeping in his desk. It was all information he had collected-"

She halted speech, pondering whether or not to extrapolate.

"Well, the details I'm sure are irrelevant to you," she said finally. "But, it was work that he had been toiling over for the bulk of his career. He was on the verge of a breakthrough, and I was hoping that perhaps I would have been able to continue his work for him. Had I been able to… get my hands on it." She trailed off.

"He didn't let you take anything?"

"He had discarded all of it," she hissed. "It's all gone." Her voice broke and Fiyero reaffirmed his hold on her, drawing her nearer.

"I-it's alright," he said, unconvincingly.

"How can you even say that?" she shrieked, spinning under his grip to look up at him. "All of that effort was disposed of in a matter of seconds by someone completely incompetent of understanding its worth. No, it's not alright!"

Fiyero was silent for a moment. "I'm… sorry."

Elphaba just stared at him, examining his face.

"But… you were working on it with him, right?" he said after another moment of uncomfortable reticence. "Don't you have an idea of what was left behind? A basis to build up from?"

"I only understand the gist of what he was doing," she sighed. "I knew that his work ran far, far deeper than the synopsis he would give me. That's why I was hoping to acquire his notes. Then perhaps I would have been able to expand upon what was already known. Now, I guess it's back to square one, though."

"Oh," was all Fiyero found himself able to say.

Another uncomfortable silence took hold of them and they started to become very aware of how tightly they were gripping each other. They disbanded quickly; she crossed her arms and averted her eyes while he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"So," he said. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly did you to him to leave him completely mentally incapacitated."

"I-I lost control," she confessed, shame blatant in her voice. "The details are hazy, but I think… I sent his desk through the window…" All at once, Fiyero burst out laughing.

"It's not funny!" Elphaba shouted, but found herself giving way to a smirk.

Fiyero finally composed himself, his jeering decrescendoing into a light chortle and then just a bemused smile. The alleyway was voided of noise once again, but the silence that preceded the laughter had a note of comfort to it, not tension. Elphaba regarded him, her smirk dissolving into solemnity, as did his goofy grin. All at once, the setting began to shift and they were back at the edge of Suicide Canal. Elphaba looked up at him with the same expression she was wearing now and her hand found his cheek, caressing the scratch- now a faint scar- that the Lion cub had made. Her lips moved but whatever she had said was lost in the daze of Fiyero's mind. An outside force began to draw them together, eliminating the small space between their lips before either of them were able to register what was really happening- what was really about to happen.

"There you two are!"

Galinda stood silhouetted by the sun in the entrance of the backstreet. Elphaba and Fiyero quickly backed away from one another, the shrill voice of the tiny blonde jerking them back into unpleasant reality. They both glanced over to Galinda's unreadable expression, hearts pounding, wondering if that momentary scene of intimacy had really just happened. And, if it did, if Galinda had just caught them.

"I've been looking all over for you," Galinda stepped towards them, her bubbly smile plastered on her prettily made-up face. Apparently she hadn't. "Did you hear that class is cancelled?" She interlocked her arms with both her boyfriend's and her best friend's, recreating a now-tangible space between them.

"Is it really?" Fiyero muttered, his mind still lost in a haze.

"Yep!" his girlfriend chirped, giving a little tug of his arm, pulling him fully back into reality.

"In that case, how about we all go find some lunch?" he suggested. "I haven't eaten all day."

"Whatever you want," she beamed, moving in and nuzzling into chest, her arm still entwined with Elphaba's. "Oh, and let's see if Bi- I mean_, Boq_, wants to tag along."

Fiyero let himself be dragged off, entangled in his girlfriend's grasp. Glancing over, he caught a glimpse of Elphaba in the oncoming sunlight. Her eyes stared directly ahead, focused on some unnamable object off in the distance. And she remained silent.

_You're not the only one stuck at square one, _he sighed, inwardly.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This installment is _long _overdue. To be honest, my laptop is on the fritz and the only computer currently at my disposal is so awkward and uncomfortable to type on. But, I finally sucked it up and brought myself to write this for my handful of faithful readers out there. ^^  
Anyhoo, without further ado, here's the next chapter~!  
**

* * *

A_ few weeks later…_

The days had been warm, despite the fact that the winter months were looming dangerously close on the horizon. However, it seemed that this very night was when the northern providence finally resolved to discard the last heated shreds of its infamously sweltering summer and give way to the chilly transition of seasons. A breeze carrying the frigidness of the night swept through the cracked window and filtered into the boys' dormitory. The stinging cold fell on Boq's unblanketed sleeping form and he shuddered unconsciously. His small hands pawed mindlessly about the linens of his bed in search of a means of warmth while his psych was stricken by nostalgia brought on by the frosty wind.

* * *

The Munchkinlander braced his body against the whipping gusts of air and onslaught of raindrops as he walked through the seemingly abandoned campus. The foreign inconvenience of rain in the midst of such nice weather had taken the residents of Shiz off guard, but many had the fortune to be able to duck into a lecture hall or one of the various cafés that dotted the area. Many, save Boq. Prior obligations made him shake off the petty fear of getting dampened and pushed him through the storm and towards the cathedral-like history building. It was usually a pleasant-looking edifice; welcoming with the cheery vibrato voice of Dr. Dillamond audible through an open window. Today, however, the gloom of the storm made its towers look intimidating. And there was no Dr. Dillamond awaiting inside with a benevolent greeting.

And there wasn't going to be ever again.

The patter of a single pair of feet along the slippery cobbles ceased as Boq paused before the front entrance. A shiver ran down his spine, not entirely due to the harsh weather. He nervously adjusted his soaking red cap, not taking his eyes off of the large mahogany doorway.

_Stop it, Boq. You're being foolish. _He scolded himself. _You've entered the building several times a day for months, both in the presence and the absence of others. Why is it so different now? _

But that was an easily answered inquiry. The new professor made Boq uneasy since the first day of his arrival. Dr Nikidik had an air of presumption to him- he seemed to lack any sort of moral compass and was insensitive towards both Animals and humans alike.

But a cold-hearted professor was nothing to fear, right? It wouldn't be the first time he'd encountered one. So why the sudden mental block? Why couldn't he bring himself to go inside? Fulfill the simple little task and be on his merry way? Why couldn't he at least bring himself to navigate himself out of the rain?

And yet even as he asked himself these questions, the idea of pneumonia didn't size up too badly in comparison to confronting the eerie Dr. Nikidik. Boq sighed inwardly. This wasn't going to be as effortless an endeavor as he had initially hoped. The small boy lingered at the base of the stone stairway for a few anxiety-filled moments before making his way up the steps and plunging into the dry building.

_I'm just a student getting out of the rain. That's all, _Boq validated.

He walked hastily through the meagerly lit corridor, painfully aware of how every single one of his footsteps gave off a hollow echo, which ricocheted off of the stone walls and heightened in volume as the sound progress throughout the building. He quickened his step.

_I'm just getting out of the rain. That's all. That's all._

He couldn't reach Dr. Dillamond's office- well, the office formerly belonging to Dr. Dillamond- fast enough. To his surprise, when he turned the knob, it offered no resistance and the door opened at his command. His heart skipped a beat. He had subconsciously been hoping for an obstacle beyond his ability to get around to botch the mission and allow him to retreat safely away. But, unfortunately, luck was on his side.

"Pardon me for the intrusion-" he began, but stopped upon realizing he was apologizing to an uninhabited room. He slid in with the most stealth he had exhibited on the entire journey and left the door ajar, fearing that it would lock from the outside and leave him trapped had he avoided the risk of capture and closed it. Creeping over to the large, rectangular desk at the front of the room, the Munchkin began to immediately sift through the assortment of papers cluttering the desk. Now that he was this far, he had to work quickly. No more reluctant movement.

The various papers were recent graded and ungraded assignments as well as absentee sheets. Worthless. He dropped to his knees and flung open the first cabinet. Unlike the face of the desk, this storage unit was by no means cluttered; in fact, it was utterly and hopelessly empty of any files or papers. Boq's morale withered slightly. What if his goal item isn't here? What is this risky escapade has been in vain?

He shook his head to clear his mind. No. By memory, he recalled that this specific drawer was for mindless footnotes made by Dr. Dillamond in his time working with him. It was always filled with scrap paper and tidbits of loosely stringed information that tended to just be discarded in the near future. There was still hope yet.

The next drawer held much more promise; it mirrored its predecessor with its sufficient lack of relevantly useful files, but it wasn't completely barren.

Just like he remembered, taped to the very back of the drawer was a small copper key.

Boq took it between his thumb and forefinger and perused it, as if trying to make sure that this was , in fact, a tangible and, moreover, beneficial finding and not just a fabrication of his overly-optimistic imagination. There was only one way to really find out. He slid the thin brass shaft into the slot of the third and last drawer directly below the first two. His fingers twisted it and eagerly gave a soft tug and the small compartment followed the outward impact. The insides were unchanged as far as Boq was concerned- Dr. Dillamond's research all compiled neatly in several organized files. The Munchkin gave way to a grin as he tucked the files gingerly into a brown messenger bag and returned the cabinet to its original locked state. The key also went in to its hiding position in the back of the second drawer; everything must seem untouched.

Satisfied and filled with a newfound confidence, he all but swaggered from the room; his previous fears that had been peeling at the back of his mind were ousted completely. However, they flooded back in immediately when he collided with the dreaded Dr. Nikidik upon exiting. The professor uttered a startled grunt as he knocked into the Munchkinlander.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing in here?" the professor demanded.

Boq's mind seemed to void itself of all forms of intelligible thought. What was his excuse? Something about the weather?

"I…. um," he spluttered, casting down his gaze to his ragged bag. "..was looking for the notes I left behind." The professor raised one eyebrow in response.

"I-I found them," Boq mumbled, patting his bag assuringly. He offered a shallow laugh. "I was a nervous wreck, thinking I had lost them due to my own foolishness. All that work- gone! What waste that would be."

Dr. Nikidik offered a noncommittal grunt. "I was actually in the process of giving this place a good sweep through- discard the straggling pieces of loose-leaf and all that. Especially all the clutter that's accumulated in there." He made a gesture towards the desk. "You'd think being one of the most renowned schools in the country, they'd possess the decency to clean out an ex-staff member's desk before replacing him." Another grunt. "Apparently not." He turned his cold, dark eyes back onto the Munchkin and Boq made an effort not squirm uncomfortably under the firm gaze. "Just be a little more… conscientious next time. You really are lucky to have gotten here when you did."

"You're telling me," Boq mumbled, still staring at the bag.

As Nikidik pushed passed him, he took heed in finally escaping the room and made his way to the entrance where he had come in. As he opened it, he was greeted by a gust of cold air…

* * *

Another breeze wafted into the room and Boq jerked into consciousness. The dim orange light from the parallel oil lamp was still glowing without much vigor, dully illuminating the room. Boq peered through the shadows and was able to make out the silhouetted form of his roommate with the lamplight as the glowing backsplash.

"Fiyero?" his vocal chords were still rusty from slumber and his question came out a harsh whisper. The figure beyond remained dormant. The Munchkinlander tentatively slipped out of the thin covers and approached the silent figure. "Fiyero?"

The sleeping Vinkus boy was lazily cradling his head in the nook between his bronze, crossed arms, which had found a textbook worthy of a makeshift pillow. Even in the poor lighting, the dark crescents below Fiyero's eyes that had been taking on a darker hue as the days went by were exceedingly blatant. A pang of sympathy struck Boq as he regarded the exhausted Winkie. Despite himself, he couldn't help but admire how persistent Fiyero was. The past few weeks have no doubt been a hellish experience for him; making the sharp and sudden transition of doing literally nothing productive to throwing himself head-on into his schoolwork had clearly physically drained him.

The Munchkin reached over to shut off the lamp and retire once more but paused, noticing that Fiyero was still loosely gripping a quill pen in his right hand. He removed the utensil from the prince's grasp and peered down at the essay that was suspended mid-thought; a sentence interrupted by slumber overcoming its author. A memory tugged at the recesses of the small boy's mind; he recalled Fiyero mentioning something about "putting off writing an essay for his philosophy class, which, he had added with a tone of bewildered disappointment evident in his tone, bore absolutely no resemblance to the Philosophy _Club. _Boq gingerly removed the paper from under Fiyero's limp hand and skimmed over the meager collection of sentences that his roommate had written.

The subject of the essay was Animal rights and their biological connection to the human race; this connection, if proven, would be a significant step forward to making society regard Animals as equal citizens. Boq found all of this very coincidental, recalling the eerie dream- or reverie- he had just unpleasantly awoken from. Dr Dillamond's notes- which were now residing in the safe cranny of his bedside table drawer- focused on just this.

Boq hesitated, shooting a glance in the sleeping prince's direction. _He's been running himself ragged lately._

His gaze returned to the unfinished essay he was clutching. Perhaps, he could "expand" on what had already been written. He does have all the necessary resources at his disposal to make it possible…

_No. _The Munchkin gave his head a slight shake. _That would be plagiarism. It would be unorthodox…_

Another thought flashed into his mind. It was uncalled for, but it made an appearance nonetheless.

Galinda Upland acknowledging him. Galinda Upland willingly letting him into to her immediate social circle. Galinda Upland insisting that he walk her to class.

All that had become a reality as of late thanks to the help of his roommate.

_I suppose I do owe him this… _

Boq seated himself in the vacant chair and began to write, not stopping until the light of dawn began to trickle in from behind.


End file.
